


Charred

by morrezela



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Disney, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Crack, M/M, Minor Character Death, Sibling Incest, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 21:19:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3333233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morrezela/pseuds/morrezela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean was born with the power of fire in his veins. Most of his early life into adulthood sucked because of that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Charred

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural. I am not making any money off this. All rights belong to Kripke, The CW, The WB and whoever licenses this. This is just for fun. Rights for Frozen belong to Disney and Hans Christian Anderson (may he RIP).
> 
> Warnings: Crack!Fic, wincest, people actually dying in fires.
> 
> A/N: This was written for super-disney’s 2015 challenge. My claimed prompt was for Frozen.   
> Many thanks to Kaelysta for her beta job, I added to the end just for you!  
> All mistakes that you find are my own.

 

There was a time when Dean had been a happy child. That had been before the fire. The raging wildfire had taken his parents from him, and he couldn’t help but think that it had been his fault. Anytime his eyes crossed over the once familiar features of his little brother, they would linger on the stray lock of dark, black hair that grew from his temple.

 

Those strands were Dean’s fault. They hadn’t been there when Sammy was born, nor as he grew into a mischievous toddler with chubby cheeks and deep dimples. There hadn’t been a single thing wrong with Sam until Dean lost control, until the demon inside of him roiled up and hurt his Sam while they were innocently playing.

 

His father and mother had taken them to Elder Bobby of the Scrappies. He’d been able to heal Sam with some fancy magic spell. Dean will never forget huddling amongst the vast metal piles that were Bobby’s domain, worrying about his brother.

 

Dean’s father had been furious at first. The anger he’d had at Dean had been frightening. “You’re supposed to take care of Sammy!” he had roared.

 

Dean’s mother had taken a softer approach. She would hold his hands as he tried and failed to control the flames on candles. She was there when the royal tailor fitted him for special gloves to retain the heat of his hands, and there to hold him after he burned through the first eleven pairs.

 

If he was honest with himself, it was his mother that Dean missed the most. He mourned his father, but Prince Consort John’s face was not the one that he saw in his nightmares. It was Queen Mary whose body was pinned to a ceiling, wreathed in flames.

 

Though Dean knew that his powers could not possibly have stretched to the lands that his parents had died in, he just could not push the coincidence out of his mind. They had died in a raging fire that swept through even the royal palace that they had been visiting on a mission of diplomacy. Flame and smoke was what poured from Dean’s hands when he wasn’t careful. Heat was his curse – the only good thing that his powers ever conjured was a lower bill for firewood and coal to heat the palace.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day of Dean’s official coronation was dreadful. He nearly melted the royal scepter when it was handed to him. He could feel the sweat running down the back of his neck while he recited the sacred vows that would make him King of Arcampbell. What was worse was how he could see everybody else sweating in the throne room.

 

A nice, spring day had been turned into a sweltering one thanks to Dean’s powers. The neck of Sam’s tunic was turning dark with all of the perspiration rolling into it. Dean forced himself to smile despite the worry and guilt creeping up inside. He just needed to make it through the ceremony, and he would be fine.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The coronation banquet smelled divine. Even Sam had commented on the fresh pies that had been baked in Dean’s honor. The food and celebratory atmosphere had lessened Dean’s nerves to the point that he thought he could control himself. Good moods sometimes meant better control.

 

There was a large enough crowd that Dean felt comfortable ordering the windows of the ballroom open. The body heat was a convenient excuse for any spikes in temperature his erratic powers might cause. Things would go well for him if he could just hold on for a few more hours. Then he could escape back to his rooms and start ruling his people from afar.

 

Of course, even thinking that his coronation night might not end in disaster was begging for trouble. Dean just never expected trouble to come in the form of his brother. Sam waltzed in with a petite brunette on his arm. Her smile was dangerous; Dean felt his eyes narrow without a conscious thought on his part.

 

“Dean,” Sam said, breathlessly.

 

Breathless was a good look on Sam. Dean regretted some of the separation that he had inflicted on the two of them because he knew that he shouldn’t be observing his brother in such a way. He told himself that if he had tried to remain close with Sam, he wouldn’t be feeling the way he did. But those reminders didn’t help much.

 

“Yes?” Dean tried to sound pleasant even though it took him a few seconds longer than it should have to reply. To his surprise, Sam’s face instantly lost its pique. That was unusual. Sam wasn’t one to give up so easily when it came to Dean.

 

“This is Amelia,” Sam gushed. “We’re getting married.”  


Dean squinted and licked his lips. “I’m sorry, what?”

 

“With your blessing of course,” Sam said as if that cleared up anything.

 

“Sammy, can I talk to you in private?” Dean asked, calling upon decorum lessons of long ago.

 

Sam scowled at him. “I don’t see why.”

 

Dean looked pointedly at Amelia then turned to look at his brother again. “Really, Sam?”

 

“It’s true love!” Sam protested loudly enough for some of the other guests to take notice.

 

“You just met her,” Dean pointed out.

 

“How would you know?” Sam challenged. “You never talk to me.”

 

“Because she’s clearly a foreigner. She’s wearing the crest of some other house, and the trade routes have been blocked off for years. I’m only four years older than you. I haven’t gone senile,” Dean reminded him.

 

“Your highness,” Amelia cut in. “I love your brother.”

 

“I doubt that,” Dean told her flatly.

 

“Hey!” Sam protested.

 

“Not that you aren’t lovable, Sammy,” Dean assured him.

 

Sam growled, “It’s Sam, not Sammy.”

 

“How did you even meet?” Dean asked.

 

“Sam hit a dog with his horse,” Amelia answered for Sam.

 

Dean felt his eyebrows rise toward his hairline. “Nope. Forbidding this. I am royally forbidding this whole thing.”

 

“You can’t do that!” Sam protested. “I’ll go back with her to her country!”

 

Amelia smiled nervously, “Sam, let’s not be hasty.”

 

“All you’ve been is hasty,” Dean told her. His palm itched as the fire within him grew hotter. The black lock of hair that hung from Sam’s forehead taunted him. “I’m going to retire for the evening,” he abruptly announced.

 

“You’re not walking away from this!” Sam yelled as Dean began to walk away.

 

Dean wasn’t exactly sure what happened next. He remembered the advancement of his guards, the whispers of his courtiers as they watched their king fight with their prince. His fingertips could recall the feeling as Sam pulled his thick leather glove off his left hand and the way that a wall of fire had sprung to life in the air, feeding off of nothing but Dean’s power.

 

Dean knew that he needed to be away from his people. There was no way that they would accept their king now. If they were to attack him, he could not guarantee that he would not hurt them in return. He was supposed to protect his people, not harm them.

 

Sam was a good man. As Dean had no heirs, his brother would be crowned after him. Sam would be a kind and fair ruler, and Dean could be by himself where he couldn’t hurt anyone. It wasn’t going to be the best life for Dean, but his powers had always kept him from the best life anyway. He couldn’t even drink ale or mead because his powers would cause alcohol to combust.

 

The mountain that he settled on was picturesque. The sand blackened and crystalized around him as he burned rocks and plants into a home. It was rather pretty looking, if he did say so himself. He would bet that Sam would be impressed with his giant castle.

 

Come to think of it, that might have been a little too inappropriate of a thought. Dean knew a phallic symbol when he saw it, and his new glass and stone castle was rather suggestively shaped. As far as he was concerned, it couldn’t be helped. While there was a line of people who would have gladly helped their future king out, he couldn’t have risked hurting them in a moment of passion. A guy was bound to have a few issues when his libido could never be safely sated.

 

“Wow,” Sam’s voice echoed through the halls. At first, Dean thought he was hallucinating.

 

“So, you skipped the part where your brother is a glass blower,” a feminine voice echoed around after Sam’s.

 

“He isn’t,” Sam assured her.

 

Dean scowled. What was with Sam picking up strange women all of a sudden?

 

“Sam?” he asked politely as he could as he descended his staircase to his foyer. The lady with Sam was taller than Amelia had been. Her thick blond hair was pulled back from her face, and a dark tan colored her skin.

 

“Dean!” Sam said as he bound up the stairs to hug his brother. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

 

“You’re glad _I’m_ okay?” Dean echoed as he pulled back from the hug.

 

Sam clasped him by the shoulders and looked into his eyes. “I didn’t know where you’d gone.”

 

Sam’s mysterious companion snorted in an unladylike fashion, breaking the moment.

 

Sam ducked his head and smiled. “This is Jess. She’s a lumberjack.”

 

“A _broke_ lumberjack,” Jess corrected.

 

“Sorry?” Dean asked.

 

“You kind of set off an eternal summer?” Sam explained.

 

Dean frowned. “That’s a bad thing?”

 

“Yes! It’s a bad thing!” Jess shouted. “You should see my profit margins! And the imbalance of trade! Your brother is so totally gullible that…”

 

“I am not gullible,” Sam interrupted.

 

“You’re marrying some chick you just met. You’ve spent a total of three hours with her,” Jess pointed out.

 

“Five hours. Five,” Sam corrected.

 

Dean sighed. “Well, I can’t help either of you.”

 

“What do you mean you can’t?” Sam asked.

 

“What about my exit and entire existence up to this point makes you think that I can control it?” Dean asked.

 

Sam looked around. “In my defense, the new castle looks like some pretty good control.”

 

“I can’t just… turn off summer,” Dean explained.

 

“Well, then we’ll figure it out together,” Sam reasoned. “There are books back at the castle. Maybe one of them…”

 

“I’ve been through the books!” Dean roared. His mind’s eye pictured all of the times their father had made him sit searching through those books, looking for answers.

 

“Then we’ll…”  


“No, Sam. We won’t do anything. You’re going to go home and take over the throne and run the kingdom like a true ruler would,” Dean ordered.

 

“But the eternal summer,” Sam said with a have wave in the general direction of their kingdom.

 

“It’ll be a great extended growing season. Blondie over there can start chopping down flowers or something,” Dean said as he hustled them out the door.

 

“I’m not leaving without you,” Sam said, pushing his way back inside the door.

 

“You have to,” Dean said as he shoved Sam out the door and flames grew to cover all the outside doors and windows. It was rather sinister looking, but there wasn’t much Dean could to about that. Sam would go back home and run things, and it would have to be okay.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Of course things weren’t okay. That wasn’t how Dean’s life went. Being taken prisoner by Sam’s “fiancée” was embarrassing. Granted, a guy had to sleep sometime, but being woken up surrounded by muskets was not a great feeling.

 

And really, what did she think she was going to accomplish by pointing guns at him? If he couldn’t control the heat when he was relaxing at his new home, why did she think he could under stress? Hadn’t she heard of performance anxiety?

 

The longer that Dean sat in his new prison cell, the more he figured that her entire plan was to just kill him and take over the kingdom. It was a solid plan if the blonde lumberjack didn’t steal Sam’s affections away first. Dean could begrudgingly admit that Amelia was decent at the evil takeover.

 

Decent, but not great. Dean’s control over his powers was dodgy, but he did know that he could melt shackles. His fire, after all, wouldn’t burn him. So he melted through his bindings and burned a hole in the wall of his prison cell. The taxpayers were going to be pissed about paying for another “royal accident,” but that was going to be Sam’s problem.

 

Escaping was fairly easy after that. The giant pillars of flame were annoying, but Dean could be fairly certain nobody was actually following him through that shit.

 

“DEAN!” Sam shouted as he came staggering out of nowhere. His hair was alarmingly black. He was quite inappropriately dressed, clad only in his knickers and riding books, sweaty chest free for the world to see.

 

“Sam, get out of here!” Dean called out.

 

“No!” Sam, always defiant, yelled back as he kept coming, colliding into Dean’s arms and sagging there. “I’m sort of dying.”

 

“WHAT?” Dean asked, full of panic.

 

“Your magic flames or whatever hit me in the heart,” Sam explained.

 

Dean’s own heart felt like it was going to break in two. “Sammy,” he said.

 

“No. It’s all good. I just need an act of true love, and I’ll be good to go,” Sam said.

 

Dean swallowed. “Sam, Ameli…” but he wasn’t able to finish his sentence because Sam was kissing him. Sam was kissing him and not bursting into flames. It was a nice kiss, but…  


 

“What are you doing?” Dean asked as Sam broke the kiss.

 

“True love’s first kiss,” Sam told him with a smirk.

 

“Like, brotherly love?” Dean stupidly asked.

 

Sam frowned. “Remind me how it is that _you’re_ the king?”

 

“I was born first,” Dean replied, “and I didn’t try to marry a woman intent on taking over my kingdom.”

 

“Yeah. About that. I think I’m going to break off the engagement, and then I’m going to go find some clothes because it’s getting chilly out here.”

 

Dean looked around, surprised to see that there were no more fires in the courtyard and the temperature was dropping. “Really? That’s it? I get with the incestuous kissing and everything it magically fixed?”

 

Sam shook his head. “Because summoning fire and heatwaves is totally a normal, not magical thing?” he asked.

 

“Point,” Dean conceded. “Now, I think we need to evict your ex.”

 

~~~~~~~~~

  _Epilogue_

 

Arcampbell thrived under the reign of King Dean of Campbell and Prince Consort Sam of Winchester. They sent Lady Amelia of Veterinaria back to her home country to be tried as they had no want of her in their jails.

 

Dean passed a decree that allowed him to marry his brother and fornicate with him. Most everyone looked the other way as they had no desire for their king to lose control over his powers. Also, they were a handsome couple, and people were fickle enough to be easily swayed by good looks.

 

The merchants of Arcampbell thrived under the watchful eye of Head Merchant Jessica. While lumber remained their chief export, tourism was their largest draw thanks to their eternally warm and sunny beaches.

 

While Dean kept his glass and blackened stone castle as the royal vacation house, Sam eventually persuaded him that they did not need the whole of it to fornicate in. So when not occupied by the royal couple, it was let out for visiting dignitaries of suitable position and the occasional tour group who marveled at its structure.

 

And they lived pornfully ever after.

 

_The End_

 


End file.
